PARENTING; Talking About Race, in School and at Home

By MICHAEL WINERIP

Published: November 26, 2006

THIS blue-collar Hartford suburb of 50,000 has seen a change in its population over the last decade. The number of blacks is growing, replacing whites who, in many cases, have moved to suburbs farther out.

The school district's enrollment is now 46 percent minority students, but at several elementary schools, they make up more than two-thirds of the students. As a result, the state has ordered that the town improve the racial balance of its schools.

To work out an integration plan with broad support, officials have been holding town meetings to build consensus among whites and blacks. They start with a dinner, then break into racially mixed discussion groups.

I spoke with two of the parents helping shape a new integration plan. John Reiser is white. He is a teacher and coach with four children in the schools. Annette Odom is black. She runs two after-school programs and has a daughter in sixth grade. Ms. Odom is also in the midst of adopting four children, who attend Manchester schools.

Mr. Reiser grew up here and has many white friends who have moved away or switched their children to mainly white Catholic schools. He remains committed to the public schools in part because he wants his children to have friends from different backgrounds. Ms. Odom is a newcomer; five years ago, she moved from the East New York section of Brooklyn because she believes there is more opportunity here and that it's important for black children to feel comfortable and confident among whites.

''I come from a big Catholic family of 10 kids, and I always had black friends,'' Mr. Reiser said. ''My parents were very welcoming. I don't remember them ever bringing up race, and I don't either with my kids. It was how my parents acted, not what they said. I try to show my kids by example.''

Mr. Reiser, 45, says his involvement in sports has helped influence and educate him and his children when it comes to race. He coaches Manchester High's girls' basketball team, which is about half white and half black (and was 28-0 as state champs two years ago). He also runs a basketball camp with a black business partner.

His children play sports, as do many of their black friends. When Mr. Reiser's sixth grader, Jake, is asked whether he and his father discuss race, he says, ''No, he doesn't really talk to me about it.'' Asked to describe his father's feelings on race, he says: ''My dad has friends who are black at his basketball camp. Some of the coaches are black, and another person who my dad owns the camp with is. And I notice the girls' team and some of the parents he talks to.''

The phone rang at the Reisers'; it was Teighlor Clare-Kearney calling to speak to 15-year-old John. Teighlor, who is black, and John were planning to go to an open gym together to shoot baskets. Her father, Craig, and Mr. Reiser played ball together growing up here, and they remain close.

Becky Reiser, 17, a top senior academically, a member of the varsity track team and the editor of the school paper, also has a wide mix of friends. She first discussed the issue of racial balance in history class last year when they studied the resistance to school busing in Boston during the 1960s.

Though Manchester High is impressively integrated -- 59 percent white, 21 percent black, 15 percent Hispanic, 5 percent Asian -- she says you notice divisions in the cafeteria, where kids sit at black, white and mixed-race tables. The divide is so pronounced that when the school holds a multicultural week, everyone is supposed to eat lunch with kids from other groups. Still, when asked if there's racial tension, Becky says, ''Not really.''

Her father is not so sure. ''Becky probably wouldn't notice,'' he says. ''I was the same way until I got older. I'd guess others would give a different opinion.''

Ms. Odom, 44, belongs to a group of black parents who meet monthly with the superintendent, Dr. Kathleen Ouellette, to highlight concerns like increasing the number of teachers of color. She says her philosophy on discussing race with children is, '' 'Learn by what I do as opposed to what I say.'''

''I try not to make it the topic of conversation,'' she says. ''But I want them to see how I interact with all people, not just people of color, and that I'm forever myself. In the past when people of color got around Caucasians they'd be inoffensive, agree with what they were saying. I don't laugh if I do not approve and it's not called for. I tell my kids like my father told me, 'You should be able to dance on many sets.' ''

She says her sixth grader, Zipporah, who has attended school here since first grade, understands that ''you take people for who they are on the inside.'' But she says the four she is adopting -- children of a friend who died in childbirth -- have had a different experience growing up in a segregated culture in Brooklyn. They have lived with her since August. The oldest, Saliyma, 16, is doing well academically, the only black student in her A.P. chemistry class. But the girl feels an uncomfortable racial divide at school. ''At lunch, you see whites on one side, mixed-race in the front and the black on the other side,'' Saliyma says. ''I stay with the black kids.''

''I feel like black people here are always being judged,'' she says. ''The in-crowd is mixed, a black father and white mother or vice versa.'' As a dark-skinned black, Saliyma says, she feels like an outsider. Asked if there is anything she likes, she says, ''Nothing about here is better than Brooklyn.''

Ms. Odom thinks that part of Saliyma's reaction is because she's new, and part reflects her racial attitudes. ''We talk and she'll say, 'You know that light-skinned girl' or 'that light-skinned boy with straight hair,' '' Ms. Odom says. ''I try to bring to her attention that color is always an issue for her. I want her to think there is another way to look at it, a better way.

''I don't say it's wrong. She's 16, has her own mind. We talk a little, then go on to something else. It's a beginning.''

Ms. Odom has suggested that instead of always eating lunch with her black friends, Saliyma could sit with the A.P. chem kids some days. When asked about this, Saliyma said, ''My feelings could change as I get to know other people.''

Photo: John Reiser and Teighlor Clare-Kearney at Manchester High School. (Photo by George Ruhe for The New York Times)